grief

i searched high and low for this article i read last saturday. it's on Life, page 7. Courtesy ST Singapore.
Tribute to a beloved wife
I read Sandra Leong...
My wife died in February this year of peritonitis, or severe inflammation of the abdominal areas, and I write this in her memory.
"You are gone, without even leaving behind a single word. Fifty years was not a very long time to live."
"You were on the bed motionless, eyes half-open. Was there anything you wanted to say before you bade farewell to this world?
I signed the consent papers to donate...
My voice was trembling when I called our daughter's school and our son's army camp to break the news of your death.
One month after you died, our 13-year-old daughter told me she dreamt of you. You were hugging her and she felt so warm and soft.
Last night, our 18-year-old son was in our bedroom, weeping. He took out the photo albums from the drawer and started going through them.
I gave him a piece of tissue, closed the door and left him alone. Who says boys do no cry?
Life has been hard. I haven't cooked a proper meal in these seven months; restaurants and hawker centres are now our dinning rooms.
Will I ever forget you? Not until the day I die.
At Mandai Columbarium, the niche I bought was for both of us. The niche number I chose is the same as that of our first home.
I have yold you I love you in front of your niche moe times than I have done in our 22 years of marriage.
I realised that both of us were very reserved persons who did not like to express our emotions.
From now on, I do not want to hold back anymore."
- Chui Pin


silence is golden. reflect.